


meant to be

by longituddeonda



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Surprise Kissing, kissing to not get caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longituddeonda/pseuds/longituddeonda
Summary: You looked back up at the men, who were nearly close enough to see inside the vehicle. The taller man had his hand on the gun, sitting in its holster. There had to be something you could do. Something that would make you two look innocent—“Javi.” You didn’t like the idea, but you also loved it. “Kiss me.”
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	meant to be

It was a recon assignment, that was it. Sure, there were a pair of handguns in the glovebox should you need them, but the plan was just to watch for some of Escobar’s men to show up. Supposedly this was a safehouse of theirs, but confirmation was needed before further action.

You had been sitting in the car next to Javier for the past hour. The smart thing to do would have been to leave the car running, in case of emergency, but you didn’t want to run the battery down, so it was off, along with the feeble air conditioning, leaving the two of you sweating in your seats. 

Javier reached over to the cupholder where there was a plastic water bottle. Yours.

“Can I?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle.

“Sure.” You shrugged.

“Thanks.” He picked it up and screwed off the cap. “I didn’t realize how long we’d be out here.”

It was a feeble excuse. Colombia was hot and these things always lasted longer than anticipated. It was standard to bring snacks and water. But this was a spontaneous trip. You knew he didn’t have anything because he had three minutes to switch from typing away in his suit to wearing comfortable clothes and climbing into the passenger seat next to you.

He brought the bottle up to his lips. The condensation on the exterior dripped onto his hand and your eyes dragged from his lips wrapped around the opening and down to his neck which rippled as he swallowed. Sometimes, in the years you had worked with him, there were moments like this where some primal urge took over and you wanted to climb onto his lap, taste his lips, and feel those hands roaming across your body. You always told yourself that it wasn’t a rational thought, a result of loneliness and the way he flirted with just about any woman he spoke to.

Often you would flirt back. It was just your nature. But he never responded to it. That was enough to shut you down any time there was a glimmer of hope. You weren’t even sure what you wanted, but something felt better than nothing.

And right now, sitting next to him as there was a distinct lack of activity outside, you wanted something.

He looked over to you as he lowered the bottle, and you glanced away, hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring.

“Problem?” he said.

“No.”

“Okay.” He screwed the cap back on and returned it to the cupholder.

You leaned your head back onto the chair. You wanted out of this car. It wasn’t comfortable by any means. Especially not with Javier next to you, acting like nothing was wrong but looking like _that_. 

Since your first day with the embassy, Javier had been nothing but respectful to you. The first months there was this stunning contrast between the man people talked about, the one you heard at night in the apartment building and who had a grin that turned every secretary and female government agent weak at the knees, and how he acted around you. He was almost uptight and restrained. And while you were thankful he treated you as an equal, things changed after that one night.

You had both narrowly avoided getting shot that day and returned home, battered and exhausted. Before you could make it up the stairs, Javier invited you in for a drink. One drink became two and you were telling each other stories from your early days with the DEA. Since then, you’ve been comfortable with one another, becoming the pair opposite Steve and Connie, grabbing lunch together or winding up at one another’s apartment for a movie and a beer.

He flirted with you the same as with most other girls, often even more, and you flirted right back. Sometimes you meant it. Sometimes you wondered if he did.

Looking back out towards the building, you saw the door open and two men exit, one taller than the other, both clearly armed but by no means dangerous. It appeared that they were doing a perimeter check.

You reached over to nudge Javier.

“Hey.” You pointed at the two guys. “We’ve got something.”

He looked up. “We’ve got two people, that’s not much.”

“They’re armed.”

“And that’s all we know,” he said. He was right. “All we can do is keep watching.”

You nodded. It was fine as they disappeared behind the building, but then they reemerged and the shorter man was looking right at you. Or at least the car. The windows were tinted enough you were almost certain they couldn’t see you or Javier from that distance, and the sun beating down would probably create a glare.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I think they saw—” you had been frozen in your seat, but now sprung into an upright position as they started walking straight towards the car— “They’re coming.”

You turned the key in the ignition, attempting to start the car, and Javier’s hand fell on top of yours. “Stop.”

“Why? We _need_ to leave,” you said. Your heart was racing, and it felt like you could sense every single beat pushing blood through the veins in your head and arms.

“It’ll look more suspicious.”

“It already looks suspicious, Javi,” you cried. “If we leave, at least we get out alive.”

You tried to start the engine again, but he pulled your arm away from the key.

“Javi, seriously?” you complained. You didn’t have time for this.

You looked back up at the men, who were nearly close enough to see inside the vehicle. The taller man had his hand on the gun, sitting in its holster. There had to be _something_ you could do. Something that would make you two look innocent—

“Javi.” You didn’t like the idea, but you also loved it. “Kiss me.”

“What?” You tried not to focus on the look on his face. It was too disappointing.

“Trust me, they’ll just think—it’ll look like some random couple,” you explained.

“Okay, I—” Javier didn’t get to finish as you glanced up at the men who were too close for you to feel comfortable, and lunged over the cupholder to plant your lips on his.

He hadn’t exactly said yes, so you waited before doing anything more. You figured the circumstances would excuse your actions. That and the numerous apologies you were already formulating. You knew Javier didn’t feel the same about you, and that was okay. Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your heart was beating even faster and you went sure if the rushing sound was your own heart or Javier’s. He was underneath you, your body posed overtop of him, one hand near his hip, the other on the side of the seatback.

And then, in an instant, his hand reached up and around your back, pulling you down into him and his mouth began to move. You moved along with it.

Quickly, it became far more sensual than you were expecting, and you felt yourself being drawn into him, the brush of his mustache on your upper lip a welcome texture, the softness of his lips, the solidity of his hand on your back.

All too soon did he pull away, glancing up to see if the men were still nearby. He sat back in his chair, leaving you hovering midair unsure of what happened.

You sat back down, noting the men walking back to the door of the building. The only sound in the car was your deep exhale and the soft but steady breathing of Javier.

As soon as the men disappeared, you sat up straight and started the car, pulling out of your spot and onto the road, heading back to the police station where you were set up.

The car ride was painfully silent. There was the hum of the tires on the road, a rattling from the air conditioner, and the occasional sloshing from your water bottle. But Javier didn’t say a word. You looked over at him a couple times, but he was staring out the window.

You hadn’t seen him act like this before. He held up a strong exterior of grimaces but there was always the underlying tenderness. The smiles he would shoot you during long, boring meetings with the ambassador. The way his eyes lit up when he told a story. The tears he would shed behind closed doors. But this was different. This was that hard shell without anything underneath it; a steely look about his eyebrows, dead set on the sidewalk alongside the road.

You wanted to kiss him for so long, but now that you finally had, it was full of regret. It sucked. You couldn’t decide what the worst part was: how he clearly didn’t like you back, or the fact that it was one of the best kisses of your life.

You felt like shit. You had practically forced yourself on him, and while you weren’t expecting him to tell you he loved you or anything, you weren’t expecting him to act like he hated you for it. Maybe you deserved it.

“I’m sorry,” you said at one point, about ten minutes away from your destination.

There was no response.

You drove through the gates and into a parking spot. As soon as the car was stopped, Javier was jumping out and storming off. Your heart sank. You had gone and fucked something good up.

You turned the car off and ran your hands through your hair, taking a deep breath before throwing open the door, leaving all your things behind, and jogging off after Javier. His brisk walk was fast, but your run was faster and quiet enough he didn’t hear you approaching until you were too close.

“Javi, wait,” you said, reaching an arm out to try to grasp his forearm. Your fingertips brushed against his warm skin and he turned around.

“What do you want?” he said. His voice was almost entirely empty. So were his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Javi, I—” something about the thought of him closing up to you had you on the verge of crying and you had to press your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “I know you don’t like me like that, but, I thought, to not get caught... I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d be that opposed to it. I’m sorry. Can we just forget it ever happened?”

“Do you _want_ to forget it ever happened?” And there was something back in his eyes. A fire, warm and raging and dangerous. You weren’t sure what he was thinking.

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed. “Do you?”

“Answer the fucking question.”

“Javi, I don’t really care if I do or not, I just—I don’t want to ruin this. And obviously, I have.”

“...I didn’t take you for the type,” he said. It wasn’t a response to your words, but to his own thoughts. That much you could see.

“What type?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think you were the sort of person who would take advantage of things, and then make light of it. It doesn’t mean a thing to you but it does to me and—”

He stopped himself upon realization of his own words.

Your mouth hung open. _It meant something to him_. It wasn’t a fluke. All those years of complicated, messy feelings and wondering. And he really felt the same.

“Javi,” you breathed out. “I was trying to cope with thinking you were opposed to even the thought of kissing me. I—It meant something to me too. Everything with you does. Always.”

“It does?”

“Yes,” you said. If it meant you could keep Javi, even if it was just as a friend, but hopefully more, you were going to put it all out on the line. “I’d resigned myself to thinking it would be one-sided. I could deal with the flirting and the smiles and the friendly touches because we were at least still friends. But it’s always meant more.”

“It has for me too,” he said. You could see his body tense and relax in sequence. He was never great at speaking his emotions without a little alcohol in his veins or the exhaustion of a long day. You knew him enough to see how hard this was. Those five words were more than enough though. Especially from Javier.

He didn’t have to say more. And you didn’t want to make him suffer through more discussion right now.

“Can I?” you asked, stepping forward, right up against his chest.

He nodded. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, connecting your lips for the second time that day. It was as good, if not better. His lips were still soft, and you couldn’t think of anything but how you could get used to this. It was almost desperate, the way he kissed you, and you were melting into him as you realized where you were standing. And just how many people might be able to see you if they only looked out the windows.

You didn’t want this to be a show for half the police force of Medellín, and you sure as hell didn’t want Steve catching onto this. Not yet, at least. You broke off with a laugh. Maybe, sometimes, things were just meant to be.


End file.
